Just a Lifetime Away
by Leahelisabeth
Summary: Sam comes in from the cold to find someone he's been missing. Written for the Wincest Writing Challenge on Tumblr.


Sam was cold. He pulled his threadbare scarf a little tighter around his neck to block the cold and clutched his coat together where the zipper wasn't quite holding. It was that time of year again, the time of icy roads and long nights and loss. And it was this place again, the place where everything changed.

Sam pulled out his key with shaking fingers and opened a door from cold alleyway into bright lights and delicious smells.

The pinched look above Sam's brow smoothed out and his dimpled grin, although dimmed after the passage of years, still broke out to cover his face. "You're here," he breathed.

"Of course I am, Sammy," Dean turned away from the stove in the little kitchenette. "It's Christmas. Gotta spend it with my favourite little brother."

Sam drunk in the sights and sounds, the game playing on the decrepit television, the ratty and bare little pine set up in a coffee can in the corner, and Dean, singing off key Christmas carols and wearing the stupid Rudolph sweater with electric light up nose that Sam had gotten him for his last Christmas.

"Don't just stand there," Dean said, coming forward and pulling Sam's coat off his shoulders. He put one gentle hand on Sam's chin and brought their lips together with just the barest pressure. Sam shivered but smiled.

"You didn't decorate the tree," Sam observed.

"I was waiting for you, obviously," Dean teased. "I still remember the awesome job you did that year after I sold my soul."

"I decorated it with pine scented air fresheners…" Sam drawled, deadpan.

"I know! It smelled great," Dean grinned. "Look, I got more."

Sam rolled his eyes but took the box from Dean and started hanging them on the tree at Dean's direction.

Dean also pulled out a couple of candy canes and other baubles. Then he stood and looked at Sam expectantly. Sam reached into the pocket over his heart and withdrew a well worn and well loved amulet. The leather string had snapped and shortened and the copper was tarnished a deep green. Sam stretched out his hand and placed it at the top of the tree, the only star, the only angel they ever needed. And then they stood, Sam gripping Dean's hand as tightly as he could and tears blurring the crappy string of lights.

"You're looking a little skinny, Sammy," Dean finally spoke. "Are you eating well enough?"

"I'm just..." Sam stopped to clear the lump in his throat. "I'm so damn tired. Can I come with you this year? I miss you when you're gone."

"I know, Sammy, I miss you too." Dean said softly. "But you still have work here. We won't be apart forever."

A rush of tears flooded Sam's face.

He felt Dean's shoulder under his face and nuzzled into the familiar leather.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean whispered. "I bet you thought I forgot the mistletoe."

Sam looked up to see Dean had pulled it out from nowhere and was holding it over their heads. Sam laughed through his tears before capturing Dean's lips in a deep salty kiss.

"C'mon, Sammy, enough with the chick flick. Let's enjoy the night, enjoy the tree, watch the game," Dean said after what felt like only seconds.

"It's never enough," Sam said thickly.

"It's all we have," Dean said sincerely. Sam wiped the last of his tears from his face and nodded.

And so they settled on the couch, Sam wrapped in the blanket off his bed to ward off the chill. Sam felt safe for the first time in forever. He thought he could almost fall asleep but he didn't want to miss a moment of Dean's visit. And so he sat and watched Dean watch the game, the familiar face and voice as he cheered and shouted at the refs. And so he was watching when the clock struck midnight and everything he loved in his entire life blurred at the edges and faded away. Even with the chill from Dean's presence in the room, Sam felt colder now that he was gone, even as the heater kicked in and blew hot air that he could feel for the first time that night. He wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth and he looked at the barely familiar face in the mirror, the grey hair, the wrinkles, the sad, tired eyes. He spit in the sink and walked back out to the cold bare room, one bed, one duffel bag, one pair of boots at the doorway, and he rolled himself up in the single blanket and tried so hard to dream of the heaven that was waiting for him, just a lifetime away.


End file.
